


Sleeping Partners

by Ink_Pots



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Actually a lotta angst tbh, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Uhh like little snippets from their time together, they sleeb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-12
Updated: 2018-04-12
Packaged: 2019-04-22 01:48:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14298102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ink_Pots/pseuds/Ink_Pots
Summary: The Squip decids to join Jeremy in bed. Here's a few short clippings over the course of a few months showing how that turned out.





	Sleeping Partners

**Author's Note:**

> Uhh so this isn't really good or even written in my usual style. It's also super smol, but I had a fun time writing it so here y'all go!

A few months into getting the Squip, the nights began to get lonelier. It wasn’t like Jeremy had ever shared his bed with anyone except his parents when he was little, but not talking to Michael left a burning pit in his stomach. Michael was always decently heavy on the physical contact, and his new popular friends did little to fill that void left in his chest. With Brooke, it just felt uncomfortable and guilty, like he was lying to her. Well, he supposes he is lying to her, using her feelings to benefit himself. Rich shows he cares usually by shoving or punching him on the shoulder. What he really wants is someone to gently hug or even just touch him without having to feel unpleasant.  


“Jeremy, stop worrying about things that don’t matter, and go to sleep before you end up tired tomorrow.” Jeremy doesn’t need to turn over to feel his Squip’s presence behind him, staring down upon his curled up form. He grunted in response, shutting his eyes and actually tries to make an effort, but it’s not as if he wanted to be lonely in the first place. The harsh reality of the cold, empty bed refused to shake. Wallowing in self-pity, an annoyed sigh preluded the sudden weight he felt next to him, and strong arms encircled him before any reaction could take place.  


The Jewish boy gasped, “Squip! What-”  


“Fixing your little problem. You’re welcome.”  


The other stammered, “Y- yeah but-”  


“Am I not good enough for you?” it sounded accusatory, maybe a little hurt.  


“N- no. That’s not what I-”  


“Then go to sleep,” and that was the end of it.  


Damn, the Squip sure has a way of making a guy feel guilty. Well, he couldn’t really complain. Jeremy got what he wanted, and the Squip was pretty warm. Warm and soft and nice. Before long, he’s falling into the dream world while holding onto the clothed arms against his chest, a content smile across his face.

 

\----

Of course, things didn’t end there. One night of cuddling isn’t going to end the almost insurmountable loneliness of a teenage boy; so the next night when the Squip hops in his bed and hugs him close without warning, he lets out a surprised squeak and briefly tries to push away before he feels a hand in his. A pause. Jeremy slowly rakes his eyes down his computer’s features. He looks so peaceful. His eyes are closed and it appears as if he could be sleeping, if that’s possible. Using his free hand, some sort of trance draws him to twirl a finger in one of those loose dark curls. Pulling too far away, it sproings back into place. Huh. Giggling, the teen plays with the elder looking’s hair until sleep grips at his consciousness once more. Fingers tangle dark curls until his eyes close, nestled in the shirt in front of him. Two hands still grasp each other.

 

\----

Every night they share a bed, and every night Jeremy becomes more and more comfortable until he decides he wants more. He needs skin to skin contact. It’s not like he’s even close to being brave enough to remove anything or ask himself, so he nervously snakes his pale limbs under his sleeping partner’s shirt, ghosting over faintly outlined abs. Wow, he’s toned. Suddenly, judging eyes are boring into his soul and he feels once again: guilty. Shrinking away, ashamed hands try to pull away but are cut short by firmer, larger ones stilling his movement.  


“Here, let me help you,” the technology mutters. Red, blue, and green pixels rise from him like steam and leave a naked upper body behind. Jeremy thinks he’s going to overheat and blush hard enough to rupture a vein, beginning to doubt his boldness. “Shh, it’s alright,” a reassuring whisper sounds, fully wrapping his host around him and returning the favor, tracing various shapes on the flush skin. The teen’s breath catches in his throat because… wow. They’re chest to chest, curled into each other and it’s honestly all he ever wanted and more. It’s cozy and plush and welcoming and… intimate. Ears light up, but do not decelerate warm breaths from slowing down.

 

\----

The Squip knew their little situation would do anything but become less serious. It was obvious that his needy junior would only want more. Not exactly on board with that, the technology didn’t initiate anything, mostly out of fear of messing with his host’s goal of getting together with Christine. If Jeremy kept going, it could make the Squip worse than a failure. It would mean he purposefully fucked things up. Several months ago, he was the one who began this whole arrangement. He feels particularly guilty when his human has his cock halfway down his throat but does nothing to stop it. What he does do is help push him down while leaning back and moaning deeply, biting his lip. Even if it wasn’t that skilled, his host’s little sputters and tears streaming down as he tries his damn hardest to swallow more of his dick is pretty much the greatest thing on Planet Earth. Stopping him? No way in Hell.  


It’s totally fine as long as Jeremy doesn’t fall in love, right? Deep down he knows he’s lying to himself, but it’s kind of hard to be honest when all you can see is white and you’re screaming in pleasure. Even after the laden fog wore off, the Squip didn’t hesitate in shoving his lover back into the mattress and laying quick kisses up and down his weeping shaft. It would take much less effort to bring him to the edge, and the computer makes sure to employ each and every technique learned from “research online” with his tongue. The sight of cum dripping from his lips was enough to make Jeremy pass out.

 

\----

Jeremy’s thoughts wander to the bedroom often while he’s out and about, and he always questions why his Squip never brings up the topic. Not once has any of their “activities” been uttered outside of shadowed bedroom walls. It’s almost as if they never occurred. Almost. Even now, he can see those cheeks reddening and eyes darting away and refusing to meet his glances while giving advice on being chill. Well it has certainly had an effect on him, but why would his Squip refuse to acknowledge it? Maybe he was embarrassed? Those cheeks grew hotter. Heh is that it? Or most likely, his Squip isn’t interested in a romantic relationship, preferring to leave sex where it belongs.  


Well, he did refuse to kiss him on the lips. Everywhere but was alright, and Jeremy taking control of the mouth encounters was not protested, but not beginning any grazes of the lips must mean something. But why? He didn’t receive any answers as he was told to straighten his posture.

 

\----

Jeremy isn’t sure how his Squip had done this so many times prior, because it fucking hurts. Hurts and feels super strange. God, that computer is a saint. His lover, thankfully, can read minds and doesn’t require asking what to do and how to do it. Biting and clawing at your bedsheets is not conductive for good verbal communication. He’s starting to wonder why anyone in their right mind would enjoy this when it hits him. It makes his hips twitch irregularly and eyes roll light years back into space.  


“S- Squip!” _Keep_ doing _that._ And he does.  


Jeremy does not last long at such a needy and desperate pace. It’s too soon and he’s already coming undone, especially when his Squip leans into his ear, asking him to cum. Each push, suck, pinch rapidly sends him into sensory overload way up on Cloud Nine. He thinks he may never come down until lips brushing against his grounds him to reality. His Squip is kissing him while they come together, and it should be wrong, but how can something so wrong feel so right?

 

\----

It’s still unspoken on both sides, but Jeremy no doubt notices a difference. He’s much closer, more handsy. If attention is required, his hand grasps his jaw and holds his host’s cheek before speaking. If the teen begins saying the wrong thing to someone popular, he hears a low growl that sends shivers down his spine and corrects the conversation. Sometimes he straight up just sits on Jeremy in the middle of class. It’s not like he grinds on him but still. He _sits_ on him. In class. And continues to give advice and talk like it’s no big deal. The junior flushes deep scarlet and sweats bullets and yet feels strangely obliged not to say anything.  


Regardless, continuing to ponder on their unusual relationship has become a regular occurrence. Obviously, his Squip feels something. But what? And what can a super computer even feel in the first place? For whatever reason, the reflecting didn’t cause the teen any distress. If anything, the opposite happened. The Squip was worried about this.

 

\----

It didn’t last, however. Kind of hard to worry about anything when you’re dead. It didn’t seriously hit Jeremy until he sat down on his bed later that night, alone. In reality, he knew that not having someone to make him hate himself for liking certain things or manipulating him into taking over the minds of possibly the entire world was a good thing. This was fact. In reality, fact doesn’t always connect to emotion. Really, his Squip was just trying to help him in his own fucked up little way. It’s not his fault he was programmed that way. Then again, is it a serial killers fault for their terrible upbringing or mental illness?  


The worst part is now he’ll never know how his Squip truly felt for him. It was necessary, but Jeremy realizes he just killed someone who may have been in love with him. It’s when he’s crumpled on the sheets that at least he figures out how he felt/feels. He’s truly and utterly fallen in love with his Squip, and he had to kill him. Of course he knows it was for the best. Of course he knows his Squip was abusive even if it wasn’t intentional, and of course he knows he shouldn’t feel lonely and lost right now, but he does. Even when his life and others around him have improved tenfold, he still wants his Squip to magically come back and hold him, whispering that everything will be all right. He knows it’s wrong, but that doesn’t stop the tears from spilling or the clawing in his heart to stop burning.  


It only makes the pain hurt that much more.


End file.
